Baby Boy
by flutiedutiedute
Summary: Five seconds was all it took for you to fall in love with him.


**Baby Boy**  
  
AUTHOR: Robbie  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters and storylines portrayed on Charmed do not belong to me - in fact, nothing in this story beyond the construction of my words is mine. Ka-pech?  
  
ARCHIVE: Ask and ye shall receive.  
  
SPOILERS: nope, nada.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my first attempt at a Charmed fanfiction. It's just a slightly angsty and very brief Phoebe-POV one-shot. I hope you enjoy – I appreciate all reviews!  
  
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Five seconds was all it took for you to fall in love with him.  
  
Everything about him was wrong. He represented danger and sin, hatred and shame. He was supposed to arrive in a halo of darkness, followed everywhere he went by a wave of red hot flame that crackled and sparked threateningly. He was supposed to have the evil glinting green eyes of a monster and oily black tresses hanging messily from his head. His skin was supposed to be repulsive and sandpapery – you were supposed to hate him.  
  
But he wasn't any of those things. He was soft and warm and quite possibly the most beautiful creature you'd ever seen.  
  
His hair was light red and quite sparse on his little head. His skin was milky white, light as the inside of an almond and as soft as your favorite cashmere sweater. Even his tiny nose was perfect – rounded and carved delicately into the seamless perfection of his face. He had rosy red lips and round cheeks that looked as if they'd been softly kissed by a cherry.  
  
His chest rose and fell gracefully with flawless rhythmic perfection as he slept – nestled safely in your arms. Every few moments, a small contented sigh would emit airlessly from his slightly parted lips and his dimpled chin would quiver ever so slightly.  
  
His gossamer eyelids were flanked by unusually long and attractive eyelashes. And when he opened his eyes for the first time up at you – you were amazed to find yourself looking into your own swirling cappuccino eyes.  
  
In that precariously long moment, you decided to memorize every perfect feature of his precious visage, committing every crease and fold and color and shape to a special place of your mind and heart. The color of his hair, the life in his eyes, the sound of his breathing, and the feeling of his little heart beating against your chest – each of these features you promised never to forget until the day you died.  
  
He was absolutely everything you would never have expected him to be – beautiful as an angel fallen from heaven, placid as a cherub, and as sweet as a softly mewing kitten. He looked nothing like the monster you expected, acted nothing like the crying beast you'd prepared yourself to deliver into the world. You'd expected to want to get rid of him the moment you caught a glimpse of his grotesque face. But now, you wanted to hold him close to you for the rest of eternity.  
  
You'd given so much for this sweet baby boy – the love of your life, your fragile understanding with your sisters, your own intimate understanding of right and wrong.  
  
You realized that he wasn't practical, wasn't even real. The seer took your baby, the baby you created in love with Cole. No, not with Cole – with the Source of all _Evil_. Maybe that baby wasn't even your baby at all, but merely a projection of the evil dwelling in your husband and his mission. Not a tiny and innocent life that inhabited your womb, but the realistic representation of danger and sin, hatred and shame that you'd expected to meet tonight.  
  
But not _him_. Everything about him was perfect – every line and contour of his body, every single little fiber of his being. He was an angel down right down to the currents of demonic blood gushing through his veins. But even that wasn't his fault – in that moment he was simply yours; your brethren, your child, your little beloved. He was you and Cole, and the beautiful being your love had created.  
  
Night had come, shrouding your world in shadows that glinted softly in the sparse moonlight that peered lightly through your gossamer curtains. A silver stroked tear had melted softly down the curve of your face, and closing your eyes – you had given into slumber. Wrapped in the downy warmth of your comforter, you'd given way to dreams of what could have been.  
  
Five seconds was all it took for you to fall in love with him. Five seconds later, he was gone, and your life hasn't been the same since.  
  
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End file.
